


Fucking Fantasies

by anna_sun



Series: Lust [2]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bondage, Canon Compliant, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pining, Power Imbalance, Season/Series 01, Teasing, silverflint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 03:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15699114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna_sun/pseuds/anna_sun
Summary: You know that scene, in Season 1, Episode 2, where Silver is caught by Flint at the wrecks, after having destroyed the page? Well, this is that.Except Silver gets a boner.





	Fucking Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Touched Starved! 
> 
> Usually I hate blowjobs - they're always the thing I skip over - cause I'm a huge lesbian but???????????????? 
> 
> Here we are.

The light from the fire was faint. Silver tried reading over the words on the page carefully and as fast as he could, but there was little time left, and the task proved itself rather hard. Concentrating to memorize words and numbers he couldn’t even make sense of was difficult when he was acutely aware that, soon enough, Rackham and Vane would find him. Soon enough, he’d be dead.

And what was a man’s death, to a pirate?

Silver heard a noise to his side and quickly tossed the page into what remained of the flames, getting up and sneaking off in the opposite way. He’d learned how to be quiet from a young age, how to step lightly, and move around discreetly. The threat now was perhaps greater than anything his caretakers in the past could have done to him, but the objective remained the same. Move fast. Be quiet.

It was a while of tripping over rocks before he started feeling breathless and tripped over some more. He could feel his blood pumping all the way down to his toes and his ears were deaf to anything but the sound of the wind and the waves around him, but he never once slew down, forever thinking about the Captain of a merchant ship tied and tortured on a mast, about a brother being beaten bloody to the ground, and then forgotten about almost instantly, about the island of Nassau itself, an island which seemed to bring the very worst out of every person who dared set foot on its shores.

He made a hard turn, and then another, before he felt himself harshly come to a stop, pushed flat against the edge of one of the biggest rocks. His eyes didn’t adjust immediately. He only felt an imminent pressure at his front, and then, heard a dark voice, one he recognized but too well.

“Where’s the page?”

When Silver looked into Flint’s eyes, he saw anger, and determination, and the fear from his own eyes reflected. He gulped.

“You can’t have it – not at the moment. And please – we should go.”

“Where have you hidden it?”

This was a matter of life and death, surely, and yet, Silver found himself rather distracted by the sound of Flint’s voice. The feel of his body against his. Flint was as scary as he could ever be, and it felt intoxicating. Would he choose to wrap a hand around his throat? Bash his head against the rock? Or would he rather push him to the ground, drown his face in the shallow waters, make him choke on wet sand? All these answers felt possible, when he finally answered.

“You’re looking at it.”

Flint was taken aback for a second. A wonderful and most likely rare look on him.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Once again, Flint’s words and the tone of his voice did things to Silver’s body it probably shouldn’t have. He felt a tingle, low in his belly; an interest growing in his guts. Fuck.

“Well, I couldn’t be certain I would escape both the madman and you, so I took drastic measures for the sake of my survival.”

Silver pointed to his head.

“Your schedule is up here.”  

Flint seemed to consider this for a moment, an endless minute where Silver could do nothing but breathe; feel his chest against Flint’s, the warmth of his body, the sight of his unfairly handsome face from so close. Silver had met few men in his life who radiated Flint’s energy, if any; such rawness, determination, and power. What it mostly did was make Silver’s breeches feel too tight. Worst thing was, he knew damn well Flint could feel it as well. They were standing too close not to, and Silver shamefully tried to avoid eyes contact. _Fucking fantasies_ , he thought to himself. His mind was simply too comfortable with the idea of being this close to Flint. His body reacted on its own.

Flint took a step back, then gave him a curious look. Knowing. Silver blushed scarlet red but he imagined the darkness hid most of it.

“We should go.”

 

 

After having met with Miss Guthrie and the other intimidating folks, Silver found himself dragged by the arm through the woods by Flint, where they reached a patch of clearing that lead to a small beach. What could hardly be called a boat was hidden under some roots and bushes near the bay. When Flint finally let go of his arm, Silver pressed a careful touch where he knew bruises in the form of a thumb and fingers would bloom in the morning.

They quickly hopped into the curved piece of wood and rowed until they reached The Walrus. Not a word was spoken between the two of them.

As soon as they entered the cabin, Silver was ordered to sit on the floor, to be shackled at the wrist to the foot of Flint’s bookcase.

“Vane and his men won’t venture here uninvited,” Flint said as he secured the lock. “That is the only reason why you’re here.”

Silver idly tested the chain, pulling a face. 

“How can you be so certain?”

“They know better,” Flint smiled, wickedly. “This is my ship.”

Silver didn’t know what to answer to that. He simply watched as Flint got up and went to his desk, sitting down at his chair, rearranging some of his quills and papers. Then, he opened a drawer, lit a couple candles, breached open a book.

After a good moment’s silence, Silver huffed out a sigh, shifting his ass on the floor trying to find a more comfortable position. The angle he was in prevented him from seeing Flint’s body exactly, which truly was a shame. It would have at least made for some distraction. But Silver could sometimes hear Flint lick his lips, or swallow a sip of something (by his best guess it was rum), if he wasn’t swiftly turning a page.

A thought suddenly occurred to Silver.

“Why have me shackled with you here?” He asked, after having cleared his throat. “Why not somewhere in the hull? Or with the crew?”

Flint exhaled a breath, just as Silver thought he heard him shut the cover of his book.

“You are the most valuable thing in my possession as of this moment.” He paused. “I don’t want anyone messing with you.”

 _In my possession_. Silver felt a twist in his guts. It was pathetically sick, but he was still somewhat aroused from earlier, and the situation where he just happened to be tied up and at the mercy of the man he’d, maybe, once or twice jacked off to, wasn’t helping the tiniest bit.

Silver shifted again.

“Are you not comfortable?”

Silver could hear the laughter in Flint’s voice.

“Fuck you.”

The tension in the room changed, then. Silver felt it deep, even though he wouldn’t have been able to explain it out loud. And although Flint answered nothing immediately, Silver felt like he knew what words were resting at the edge of his lips.

Of course, he wasn’t wrong.

“Fuck me?” Flint asked, subjectively, as he finally walked around the desk. Silver stretched his neck out trying to stare him in the eye, trying to save face. “Then it _is_ all you can think about, isn’t it? Even when your life is in imminent and real danger?”  

“Back there – “ Silver started his lie. “It was only the adrenaline. Nothing to do with you.”

Flint smiled again, crouching down to make direct eyes contact, to make Silver feel small.

“Say it again.”

Silver let got of the breath he’d been holding.

“I’m not attracted to you.”

He blinked; twice. Flint tilted his head.

“Again.”

“Christ, you certainly enjoy having power, don’t you?” Silver snapped, almost forgetting who he was talking to. “It’s a wonder _you_ don’t get hard doing shit like this, you know, it’s a perfectly normal – “

Silver gasped, the words he was about to say dying in his throat as Flint gently dropped his open palm over his crotch, not giving nearly enough pressure to satisfy, only to infuriate. But the simple sense of knowing Flint’s hand was touching him _there_ was enough to have Silver roll his eyes and try to push his hips up, seeking the very thing he’d never thought he’d ever be so close to getting any time soon.

“Adrenaline, huh?” Flint mocked. “I’ll have you know I can recognize an interested man when I see one.”

Silver laughed, all breathy, desperate, doing a shit job of hiding it.

“Takes one to know one.”

Turns out that was perhaps the wrong thing to say, as Silver felt the loss of Flint’s touch almost instantly. It took a lot of self-control for him not to let out a whine. Truth be told, he hadn’t been touched like this by anyone else for a long time.

“Did you honestly believe I was going to satisfy the needs of a thief?” Flint said, sounding so mean. “A man I would have killed on the spot, had he not had the wits of making himself indispensable?”

Silver grinned. It was obvious Flint was good at making himself mysterious and feared, but Silver himself was good at understanding what real feeling laid in-between carefully chosen words.

“But that’s exactly it, isn’t it?” He was gaining some confidence. “I’m so below you and yet I find a way to reach you just the same. Must be annoying, to see a common thief manage to outsmart you, even just the little bit. I saw it in your eyes at the wrecks. You were impressed.”

“Careful, now,” Flint said, sounding amused. “You don’t want to anger me.”

“Don’t I?”  

Silver lost all sense of what was real and what was not when Flint’s thighs suddenly straddled his own. He only had one hand to work with, but Silver quickly found a way under the Captain’s shirt, tugging it up and off before his wrist was abruptly taken and pushed up against the wall, above his head.

“You want this?” Flint asked, pushing himself onto his knees and putting his hand on Silver’s shoulder. Silver’s lips were already gaping, begging for a kiss, and then he smiled, and nodded his head yes. Flint forced him to slide down the slightest bit, and the stretch now had the shackle hurt the skin at his wrist, and the angle was less than comfortable for Silver’s back, but finding himself face to face with Flint’s crotch, he wasn’t complaining.

He dared his tongue out to give a tentative lick at the fabric, feeling Flint’s length and hardness already, and if for a second Silver felt intimidated, he also felt awakened. It had been far too long since he’d felt a man this way. The smell and the heat and the promise of what was still too come almost had him dizzy, and the feel of Flint’s hand on his shoulder and the sight of the laces of his breeches coming undone before him; it was intoxicating.

“You seem eager,” Flint teased, although there was a hint of confusion in his tone. “I could have sworn you were doing this for the opportunities it might grant you, being close like this with the person who holds you captive. Many would call me a fool to succumb to such advances as these, in such circumstances.”

Silver only stared up at him, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. It was true there were valuable things to get out from this, if he only played his cards right, if he managed to also find his way into something other than the Captain’s pants. If he made himself liked. But it was also true that Silver would have probably fell to his knees for a man looking like Flint any day, any time, of any year.

“But you really do look like you _want_ this.” Flint passed a hand in Silver’s hair, grabbed it tight at the base, sounding amazed. “Are you such a good liar? That you can have your body react this way, even when not properly aroused? Such a good liar that you would take a man’s cock in your mouth, even after having already secured your own survival?”

Silver let his head drop against the wall behind him, then laughed.

“I’ve been thinking about this for some time.” He admitted, not shamelessly. “Would I lie about that, too?”

Flint grabbed Silver’s chin with his index finger and his thumb. The touch was gentle, but firm. Silver felt almost the entirety of his body melt from it.

“I think you would,” Flint shrugged, before tugging at his chin, so that Silver’s mouth would fall open. “But I also think I don’t care.”

In that moment Flint took himself out of his breeches, and Silver barely had time to register what it looked like, before he felt the head teasing at his lips, although, thankfully, there was no force behind it. It was merely a suggestion (even if a very clear one).  

Silver tightened his lips to suck at the tip before he opened his mouth wider to reach further down with his tongue, tasting the salt off the soft skin, and then feeling the length of a vein, before coming back up. It was quite messy, and he hadn’t found his rhythm just yet, but Silver was only testing the waters, seeing what worked, what didn’t (not to mention, he wasn’t used to doing this half tied up to the floor).

Flint seemed to enjoy it all the same. He cursed under his breath and rested an open palm flat against the wall for support, probably loving just the heat of Silver’s mouth. Silver closed his eyes. He loved the weight of Flint on his tongue, the bitterness of a sailor who couldn’t wash off the day’s sins every night. Silver locked his jaw wide open and dragged his tongue on the underside of Flint’s cock, at times giving particular attention underneath the head, and he found himself wondering where the thing had been before. There were talks and rumors of a witch Flint went home to, but watching him now, biting his bottom lip with such ardor, breathing so heavily, and feeling the short snaps of his hips he seemed to have such little control over, Silver knew that this kind of pleasure was the one Flint didn’t find as often as he’d liked. That the mouth or the cunt of his witch wasn’t enough to satisfy his deepest, strongest, desires and needs.

Silver couldn’t say that out loud. Obviously. But it was still a welcomed revelation.

Flint took himself out of Silver’s mouth when he realized the man wasn’t giving as much attention to the task as he’d been before.

“Can you not finish what you started?” He asked, in such a demeaning tone that Silver felt a fire ignite in his guts, but if it was from rage or arousal, he did not know. Probably both.

“Can’t you fuck me like you mean it?” He asked back, a smirk at the edge of his lips, a challenge in his voice.

The look Flint sent him then was puzzled, as if to say, _Are you sure?_. All Silver did in response was lick his lips.

Then, he opened his mouth.

Flint wasted no seconds to find release this time around. He slowly pushed his hips so that the head of his cock would breach Silver’s mouth, and then he started fucking in and out of it, not going too deep yet, but increasingly faster and faster. The simple sight of it was insane. Silver moaned, feeling good and used just like he’d been craving to be, and Flint dropped his head back, letting out a grunt right after it.

He was fucking beautiful. His cock was beautiful, the sweat running down his neck, his copper hairs, his freckles running all over pale skin, the whole of it was picturesque, and a thousand times better than any fantasy he could have created in his mind’s eye. Of that, Silver was certain.

He pressed a hand to his own unattended cock, feeling his orgasm build already just from the pressure. Silver liked to please, and it was obvious now that his cock liked it too.

Right then, he felt Flint’s fingers dig deeper into the skin of his shoulder blade, and tears pooled at his eyes when Flint’s member reached near the opening of his throat. He was getting more frantic, now, being less careful. Silver took a deep breath through his nose and he closed his eyes before he swallowed around Flint’s cock.

That was the end for him. He groaned and honest-to-God moaned as would a whore, when he took himself out of Silver’s mouth and stripped his cock hard and fast before finishing all over his face. Silver took it all. He stretched his tongue out and welcomed the bitter taste as if it was water after having almost died of thirst in the desert.

“Fuck,” Flint breathed, and before Silver could register anything else, he felt a warm hand go down his pants.

 

“Shit, shit, Captain,” he gasped, whole body convulsing when Flint’s hand started moving back and forth. “Fuck, I won’t last, I’m so – shit, you’re beautiful, f – f uck, yes, yes, like that, just like that – “

Silver groaned, felt it deep within his core, and then, Flint _finally_ took his cock out of their confines. The night air hitting his overheated skin felt like a completely new wave of pleasure, and it had Silver moan again. However, instead of fucking Silver hard and fast like most people would do after having gotten to fuck the man’s mouth, Flint only placed his hand in a tight fist over the top of Silver’s cock.

“I told you you,” he whispered in a dark voice, right below his ear. “I won’t satisfy the needs of a thief.”

Silver banged his head against the wall. Flint was a shit. A villain. A fucking menace.

“Fuck you,” Silver spat, and although it did come from real anger, he still laid his freed hand on the ground beside him in order to have support, when he started bucking his hips up into the hole Flint had provided for him. The whole of the man’s hand was already slick with Silver’s mess. The fire low in Silver’s guts was quickly spreading to his groin, but not quickly enough. It was intense, and he was tired; he could feel an ache in his back and in his legs where he was pushing himself up relentlessly, and his face was still hot and sticky with Flint’s release, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care about all this. He only cared about the warmth and the tightness of Flint’s fist, only cared about the man’s eyes, which he was helplessly staring into, and when Flint suddenly opened his mouth slightly, and started breathing heavier too, as if to show he was sharing Silver’s pleasure – that was the end for him. He came with a low grunt and in hot streaks over the Captain’s belly.

“Fuck,” he breathed once he was done seeing stars. His limbs felt like jelly, and his skin was covered in uncomfortable sweat. It felt like he’d died and then came back to life. To come at the hands of someone else – of _him_ – was awfully different than finding release on his own.

Flint slowly pushed himself off, then up on his feet. Soon enough, there was a wet rag at Silver’s disposition, so he was able to wash himself off as best he could. Of course, Flint didn’t help with any of it. It would have showed he cared.

When Flint undressed and prepared for sleep, it became clear he had no intention of freeing Silver from his shackles. Although he hadn’t done all this for the advantages it might bring him, Silver realized a whole night spent on the floor would be far from comfortable.

He cleared his throat.

“Would you – ah – would you mind unlocking this?” He tugged at the chain. “It isn’t as if I’ve got any place to go.”

Flint gave a short laugh, mocking.

“I told you, this doesn’t change shit. I still don’t trust you.”

“You could tie me to the bed?”

Flint turned around to look at him then, to _really_ look at him, and when Silver caught that glint in his eyes, that look, filled with want, and consideration, he knew there was truly no needs for other arguments to be made.

He’d won.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I personally barely read it over twice, so feel free to point out any glaring or annoying mistake! 
> 
> You COULD also leave a nice comment but hey that's for you to decide


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